Thursday, July 29, 2010

Parent Night and Lobster Boil

Daria Souvorova, Sweet Daria's, Lobster BoilI don't see my parents as often as I would like since I live in New York and they live in Maryland. I visit as often as I can, but I can't survive in Maryland since I can't drive (as evidenced by my crashing into a cop car and the subsequent three and a half years of court dates that followed) and I have gotten far too accustomed to the late hours and speed of the city (I get frantic in grocery lines when my groceries aren't bagged fast enough).

Now that I am out of the house and my younger brother is heading off to college, my parent's have developed an exciting "camping lifestyle." It is almost pointless to call the house line since my parents are either at work, building sets for my mom's new opera or off in a tent somewhere in West Virginia or Maine. Last week, I got a call from my mom as they drove past New York on their way to Maine to eat lobsters and sleep under the stars. They wanted to stop by on the way home and spend the night, and granted my request for a lobster (and by granted I mean my dad said OK while my mom threatened to walk back from Maine if there was a live lobster in the car).

After an amazing day of painting in my studio on Monday, I threw another chicken in the oven and awaited my parent's arrival. We dropped of their car at the ghetto parking lot in my neighborhood and walked home with a dancing lobster in a plastic bag. I got home and boiled a pot of water to bathe my unsuspecting friend.

I did not have a pot big enough, to put him in the water, since he was fond of spreading his claws out, I had to sit him in a pot and pour scalding water over him. For some reason, I figured he would die instantaneously, like a shrimp. This was not the case. I poured water over him and yelled "Im Sorry, Im Sorry, Im Sorry" as i watched him squirm around. A bit of a traumatic start, but he cooked down and was delicious. I am saving half of him in the freezer to make a lobster risotto or a bisque. MMM.

The next day we walked around the city and I took my parents to my favorite sushi place, Zen Cafe on St. Marks place. I take every visitor there at least once, and since my parents love sushi, we go every time they visit. I had to report for work at 3:30, so I made my parents a couple of cappuccino's and gave them directions to the parking lot, and thus went my 16 hour visit from the parents.

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